


Those Games We Play

by kronette



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 08:08:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>VeronicaRich put this idea in my head, so here her not-quite-a-kink-meme-prompt: I'm intrigued by the notion that Rimmer and Lister would carry on an affair in AR somehow but never acknowledge it during their time in reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Games We Play

Rimmer watched covertly as Lister stepped into the groinal attachment and fastened it. He pulled on his own gloves as Lister started loading the game. 

"So, film noir, yeah?" 

He nodded, his mouth dry. That was what they'd agreed upon last week, after they'd finished the Egyptian Pharaoh game. 

Lister turned to him, his eyes dark and sleepy, but Rimmer knew he was anything but tired. Rimmer discreetly adjusted himself. 

"Random character placement set. Ready, Rimmer?" 

Rimmer licked his lips. His voice modulated slightly as he replied, "Ready." He closed his eyes as he felt himself being drawn into the game, then opened them. He was in a small room lined with chairs, an overcrowded desk at one end and two doors with glass insets. One door had 'Dirk Gently, Detective' engraved on it; the other 'Dix Hill, Private Investigator'. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and he coughed as he breathed it in.

"You okay there, mister?" called a female voice through the haze. He peered around, finally spotting the blonde behind the desk. Her hair was high, her lips bright red with a coat of lipstick. 

"Just fine, doll," he drawled, getting into character. He rubbed his fingers over his thighs, feeling the fine material of the cloth. He was wearing an expensive suit, with a silk tie done up snug against his throat. He fished for his wallet, finally locating it in his raincoat. He flipped it open with a flourish, seeing a strange face glaring back at him from the driver's license. 'Russell Vandeburgh' had straight hair, not the horrific curls he'd lived with his entire life; a slim nose, strong jaw, blue eyes and looked every inch a Hollywood star. He preened slightly and tucked the wallet away. 

Games usually started out quicker than this, unless…he checked out the woman more closely. She was turned slightly away from him, typing away on an ancient typewriter. Lister usually programmed in limits to the random selector, keeping them the same gender once they entered the game, but there was always the first time for a glitch. She didn't seem interested in anything other than typing, so he dismissed her. 

His leg started jittering nervously. Where was Lister? Who would he be this time? Just then, a third door he'd missed opened behind him, and two men walked in. 

"Hiya, doll," said the shorter of the men, dressed in a pinstripe suit and trenchcoat. The hat was tipped back rakishly on his head, a cigarette dangling out of his mouth. Rimmer's heart started to race; was that Lister? 

"Hiya Dix," the blonde replied with a wink. "Hi, Dirk." 

Rimmer's eyes slid over 'Dirk' and he bit back a moan. The suit the man wore was impeccably tailored, certainly not fitting with the detective lifestyle. It was in a dark material, not fully black but maybe a deep, dark blue. Jacket buttoned over a slightly lighter color vest, yet another shade of that dark color for a shirt and a silk tie that his fingers itched to tug on. Dirk's hat was settled firmly, deliberately over his smooth hair pulled back in a small, neat ponytail. His eyes were expressive and dark, and instant recognition flared in Rimmer's gut: _that_ was Lister. 

The secretary stood up and nodded in his direction. "This here is Mr. Vandeburgh. He's here about a job." 

Rimmer stood up and smoothed down the front of his suit. "Yes, gentlemen. I'd like to hire you; discreetly if I may." 

"Sure thing, boss," Dix replied, but it was Dirk that Rimmer had his gazed fixed on. 

He followed them into Dirk's office, sitting in the uncomfortable chair and spinning a tale about needing protection from his accountant, who he suspected of embezzling over fifty thousand dollars and also suspected of working with the mob. All the while he talked, he watched Dirk covertly. Dirk had picked up a pen and began twirling it the second he sat down; Lister had to keep his hands occupied the same way. 

Dix shuffled some papers on the desk. "Yeah, we can do that. What sort of protection are you looking for, Mr. Vandeburgh? A bodyguard while you're out on the town, or…"

"Round the clock protection," Rimmer interrupted, his eyes locked on Dirk's long, slender fingers, so different from Lister's. "My accountant had full access to my business and my home. I'm not safe anywhere." It was either a bald-face lie or the absolute truth. He hadn't cared what the storyline was supposed to be and only had the basic grasp of an idea of what he was supposed to be doing. 

Dirk's eyes glittered in the half-light. Rimmer inhaled sharply as Dirk placed a hand on Dix's arm, Lister's Liverpudlian accent nowhere to be found as Dirk's London twang announced itself: "Hey, Dix, I'll take this one. You've got the cheating dame to tail. We still need evidence to take back to her old man." 

Dix glanced between them, then shrugged. "If you'd rather babysit this richie, that's on you…no offense." 

Rimmer shrugged. "None taken." He stood along with the two detectives, shaking hands with Dix. 

"I'll see you around, Mr. Vandeburgh."

He nodded curtly and watched as Dix left the office and closed the door. He turned back to Dirk and licked his lips, watching as desire flared in those dark eyes. 

"Let's see about getting you home safe, Mr. Vandeburgh." 

~~~~

Rimmer of course had a driver for his Bentley, so he and Dirk settled in the back as they were driven downtown. Rimmer found the button for the privacy screen and made sure it was secure before he focused his attention on the man next to him. 

Dirk's arm slid across the top of the seat, his fingers just touching Rimmer's shoulder. He couldn't feel it, but he imagined the heat searing through the layers of cloth to his flesh. The question appeared casual on the surface, but Rimmer heard the undertones as Dirk asked, "How long of a drive is it?" 

He answered truthfully, "I've no idea." His gaze was drawn to Dirk's lips, not as full as Lister's but tantalizingly pink. He wet his lips in anticipation. 

Dirk leaned in and he started to close his eyes, but Dirk's hand kept going across his chest to the mini bar. He looked down, his mouth inches from Dirk's and felt his heart in his throat. "Do you fancy a drink?" 

"What?" he croaked, mesmerized by the flecks of green and gold and brown in Dirk's eyes. 

Dirk's smile was tantalizing, his gaze a teasing flick down Rimmer's body. "Something to…cool you off. You look flush, like you're overheating."

He couldn't help it; he moaned softly and cupped the back of Dirk's head, drawing him in for a kiss. He tasted fresh and clean, his tongue nimble and agile as he pressed deeper, trying to get sense of Lister. His hands tangled in the long, silky hair. He felt hands at his coat, pushing it off his shoulders and he wriggled to help Dirk along. Restrictive jackets and vests were unbuttoned, shirts untucked as hands made quick work of buttons and zips on their trousers. 

Rimmer slid until he was on his back, his left leg hanging off the seat as Dirk's bare knees settled around his naked thighs. 

"You're a man of power and money, yet you need me to protect you," Dirk growled, stripping him of his tie. 

"Yes," he moaned and pulled Dirk down by his tie, wrapping his hand firmly around the silk to hold him as he slipped his tongue between the parted lips. 

They started to rut against one another, hips arching up and pressing down until they fell into a mutually satisfying rhythm. The car rocked with their motions, even as it continued down the streets of whatever city they were in. 

Rimmer was quickly losing his mind, lost in the taste and feel of Lister-yet-not-Lister. The creak of leather beneath him; the harsh, breathy moans of the man atop him drove him to the edge. "Hard – more – come," he gasped and arched up, spilling between them. 

He didn't have the leverage to bring his leg around the backs of Dirk's knees, but he dug his fingers into the flesh of his ass as he urged him to climax. "You want to ride my ass later, don’t you? You want to control me, make me beg, bring the powerful man to his knees." 

A sound of need and pain tore out of Dirk as his hips stuttered, Rimmer holding him steady through his powerful orgasm. 

Small moans were panted into his neck as Dirk settled his full weight on him. Rimmer wasn't a cuddler, but Lister was. Rimmer wanted nothing more than to set himself to rights and pull back the character he was supposed to be playing, but Dirk didn't seem to want to move. Rimmer gasped and squirmed as he felt teeth nip his neck, then soothe the area with a tongue. "That's for thinking of shoving me off you." 

Rimmer kept his mouth shut, afraid of destroying the faint illusion they were clinging to. 

"Sir, we're almost at the penthouse," the disembodied voice of Rimmer's driver called back to them. 

Illusion firmly back in place, Rimmer pushed gently at Dirk's shoulders. "Best make ourselves presentable." As Dirk climbed off of him, he looked down at his sullied and wrinkled suit, and sighed. 

Dirk looked at him sheepishly as he did up his trousers. "Sorry. Do you want to take damages out of me pay?" 

"No." He reached out to smooth down Dirk's tie, now horribly ruined. "I ought to pay for your suit," he mused aloud. "It's the decent thing to do."

Dirk's eyes shone dangerously. "I hope that's the last decent thing you suggest, Mr. Vandeburgh." 

Rimmer wrapped his fist around Dirk's tie and yanked him forward, staring him down. "Call me Russell," he ordered before kissing Dirk again. 

~~~~

The penthouse was lush and expensive, but Rimmer was most grateful for the plush carpeting as he was pushed to his knees. He obeyed Dirk's rough order of, "Suck me," relishing the thicker cock that threatened to gag him. Before he could taste the fruits of his labors, Dirk pulled him off and shoved him face-down onto the carpet. 

His body alive with anticipation, Rimmer pushed himself to his hands and knees, swaying as his ass was slapped. He grunted with each stinging smack, his cock hardening and his blood singing. He normally didn't get off on this, but obviously this character did and he let himself be swept along in the gameplay – both game plays. 

His ass burned like fire and tears leaked out of his eyes, but he still moaned with each touch. The harsh slaps had become soothing strokes, then soft kisses, then small bites. 

He didn't know how long he stayed on his hands and knees in the middle of the living room, nor how he managed to crawl into the bedroom, nor how long he endured what Dirk did to him. 

When Dirk finally allowed him to come, he screamed around the gag and jerked against his bonds, his powerful orgasm ripping him apart from the inside out. 

He lay supine and compliant as Dirk undid each knot, kissing the faint marks on his skin. The gag was removed last, reverently and with great care. Dirk caressed his cheek, kissing and licking the tear tracks down his face. 

"I do love you, you know," Dirk whispered, then disappeared with a handclap. 

Rimmer sat up in bed, every muscle protesting the smallest movement as he stared uncomprehendingly at the empty spot where Lister had just been. 

The End


End file.
